


The power of imagination (Pyro/Medic)

by Axis_intercept



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Post tf2 war, Team Fortress 2 - Freeform, tf2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:43:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6301504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axis_intercept/pseuds/Axis_intercept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story a friend and I thought of.</p><p>After their contracts with Mann co come to an end, Pyro is deemed unfit to go about living a normal life again. In consequence he is separated from Medic. In his sorrow he creates a fantasy world in which to seek sanctuary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The power of imagination (Pyro/Medic)

The sun made the cobblestones shine as two men happily walked along the path. Taking in the bright, sweet pastel colors of the country side, stopping every so often to pick a small flower or comment on something of interest. The shorter man, face obscured behind a mask, skipped merrily ahead dragging the other on. Suddenly stopping to look at a cloud with a particular resemblance to a kitten floating in the pinky-blue sky, giving his partner a chance to catch up, his long white coat flying behind him as he went. They both smiled as the other adjusted his rounded glasses and proceeded to plant a kiss on the masked man's forehead. Both then settled under a blossoming tree, simply enjoying each others company. In each other's arms, a sweet embrace. True happiness at last.

...

It then began to rain... Wait, that's not right... It never rained in Pyroland. Why was it raining? Was was everything turning sad? The beautiful colors began to drain away leaving behind dirty shades of grey and moldy brown. Pyro quickly glanced to the flower in his hand, it was visibly dissolving, he tried to protect it from the liquid death that seemed to be tarnishing his paradise. He panicked and reached to gripp onto the fabric of his lover's coat only to realize that there was nobody there. 

He was alone, all alone.

 

...

 

...

 

Was this a memory or a dream? This scene played through his mind so many times over it had come to feel almost as real as he was. 

He woke up with a sudden gasp, his face drenched in tears. Where was he? How did he get here? The simple cream walls were unfamiliar to him, the sterile smell, the artificial lighting. It frightened him.

...

 

...

Then it all came back. He remembered. They were gone. All of them. Even him. The one man who had cared enough/ had dared to approach the dreaded Pyro. The one man who had not run. He was gone and never coming back. When he was deemed to dangerous for life outside he was confined in here. A place where he could never be free. Free to go out and find him, to be with him forever. 

Hot tears continued to flow as he processed this information. He had nothing left to remember him by, they had taken everything. He had once had a photograph but that was long gone. Dissolved by the hours of never ending crying and pain to the point where the blurry silhouette that remained could no longer bring him comfort. He had never heard from him since their contract ended, maybe he had been locked up as well? Or maybe...

...He had all but forgotten. Emotions toyed with like a doll. A dead piece of plastic. Maybe he had only imagined seeing affection in those icy blue eyes. 

No, he refused to believe that.

 

The door opened and a woman in a coat who's color matched the walls appeared. Plain and dull like everything else here. She put down a tray with an assortment of medications. Pyro knew them well. Their colors matched those of the rainbow.

The nurse gave him a pitiful glance and turned to leave. But didn't. Instead she rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small package. She placed it on the small table next to the medication and this time, she left.

Pyro ignored them at first. The pills were always the same, but the package was unusual. The crinkled brown paper enveloping it was torn in some places and was obviously not recent but at least it meant that somebody out there had cared enough to send it all the way here.

He began to peel the wrapping and peered inside. He felt his eyes water again as he pulled out the prettiest thing he had seen in years. A small box of crayons and a pad of paper. But what truly made his heart ache was the letter that came with it. A simple piece of card with a white feather taped to it along with a small sentence; 

"I saw these and thought of you as I always have.  
Medic"

The tears returned. Without really thinking, he slowly walked up to one of the walls, took out a crayon and began to draw. At first it looked like nothing but it later turned into a window. Inside the window were the beautiful colors and scenery that he had seen in his dreams.Satisfied with his work, he clutched the letter to his chest and curled himself back onto his bed, his new window overhead. He took the red pill. Red was for sleep, it meant escape from reality. It was his favorite. Maybe this time his dream would have a happy ending.


End file.
